


Lingo

by bigblueboxat221b



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Army Doctor John Watson, Australian Slang, BAMF John, Captain John Watson, Foreign Language, Ignorant Sherlock, M/M, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 23:20:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12922365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigblueboxat221b/pseuds/bigblueboxat221b
Summary: John finally realises he knows some stuff that Sherlock doesn't and decides to have a bit of fun.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Crack-y goodness, born of a vague prompt about John learning Pashto while he's in the Army and Sherlock not understanding it. I've expanded that to include mainly Australian and military slang that John picked up while serving. Translations/Explanations in chapter 2.

John often sleeps through Sherlock’s night time violin concerts, but last night was particularly discordant. That’s why, when he comes into the kitchen that morning, he misjudges the angle coming around the table and smacks his hip, the contact sending sharp pain through his side.

“E morghodaa!” he curses, rubbing hard at the spot and wincing. He doesn’t see Sherlock looking curiously at him.

Five minutes later, John reaches for the milk, finding the carton empty. Again.

“Staa khur aoghem!” he mutters, this time catching the look of irritation on Sherlock’s face. He’s too annoyed to analyse it though, tipping the black tea down the sink in disgust.

+++

The next day, when there’s no milk again, John lets rip. Sherlock only catches part of it, hiding as he is behind his bedroom door. “E morghodaa… Daer kha ha mo wuku…staa khur aoghem!” The tirade cuts off abruptly when Sherlock shifts and the floor creaks, giving him away. He doesn’t move until John does, waiting until he hears John clomp down the stairs to work.

+++

Finding Mycroft sitting in his living room is not high on the list of John’s favourite things. Coming home, milk in hand, he ignores Mycroft, making tea for himself and putting the milk away before venturing out into the living room.

“Mycroft.” He greets Sherlock’s brother.

“John,” Mycroft says, sounding both polite and unimpressed at the same time.

“Is there something you want, Mycroft?” says John bluntly. He’s been on the edge all day and just doesn’t have any fucks left to give.

“Not particularly,” Mycroft replies.

John turns to Sherlock, raising his eyebrows. “What?” Sherlock asks innocently. In the end, it’s the smirk that does it.

“I’ve had a gutful of this shit today.” he says quietly. “You’re shitting me to tears, Sherlock, and..aku nyerah.” He storms out, slamming the door hard behind him. John stomps up the stairs to his bedroom before taking two deep breaths and walking calmly down the stairs again.

“Some foreign slang, obviously.” Mycroft’s voice is impatient.

“It was an Indo-European language, Mycroft.” Sherlock sounds more irritated than anything. “He won’t say it again.”

“And you won’t just ask him.”

“Of course not.” Sherlock has moved from irritated to petulant now.

John stands up, a grim smile on his face. He gets it now.

+++

 “Sherlock, have you seen my blue thong?”

John comes in, looking puzzled, raising his voice as he rummages through piles of stuff. Their living room is a disaster, as usual.

Sherlock spits tea across the table, choking a little as he looks at John with wide eyes.

John doesn’t notice. “Come on, I need to find it. Makes the whole outfit, that blue thong!”

John grumbles as he leaves. Sherlock can’t see the grin on his face.

+++

John can see that Sherlock’s going to be a nightmare. He solved two cases today, evaded Mummy Holmes and got the better of Mycroft this morning.

“Tall poppy today, aren’t you?” John says casually in the cab.

Sherlock looks puzzled, running a hand self-consciously down his jacket before looking at the floor, judging the distance with a frown on his face.

“No taller than usual, John.”

John grins to himself. “Nevermind.”

+++

Sherlock is impatient. “Why can’t Molly figure it out? Why can’t she ask Robson?”

“She doesn’t like Robson.” John explains patiently.

“Why not?”

“He chucked a sickie last week.”

“At her?” Sherlock replies, looking confused.

John holds in the laughter. Just. “Sorry, what?”

“He threw a…what, John?”

“Doesn’t matter. But Molly won’t ask Robson.”

+++

“I don’t understand.  You said you’re angry at Bill.” Sherlock bites out.

“He was going to lend me his boogie board.”

“Right. Good,” says Sherlock unconvincingly.

John can tell Sherlock has no idea what he means. “What exactly do you think I’ll be doing with the boogie board, Sherlock?”

Sherlock looks exasperated. “Dancing?”

+++

“You’re home late,” Sherlock snaps.

“I had drinks with Bill, I told you.”

“Oh.”

John flops down on his chair and looks at Sherlock. _“_ He has a new girlfriend.”

“Right.”

“They met at a B&S.”

Sherlock blinks. “Okay.”

“What do you think that stands for, Sherlock?” John smirks.

“Black and Silver,” answers Sherlock with confidence.

“Nope.”

“Bling and Shine.”

“Not even close.”

“Bath and Spa.”

“No.”

“Bathrooms and Showers.”

“Do you want a clue?”

Sherlock gives John an extremely offended look. “Names of the founders, statistically Anglo names. Black and Smith, Brown and Short.”

“How about you make a list. I’m going to bed.” Smirks John. Sherlock scowls.

+++

Sherlock hasn’t eaten in three days, so John drags him downstairs to Speedy’s. They run into a friend of John’s, an Army friend that John greets as Bluey.

“Bluey? Mate!”

John can see Sherlock processing this nickname, staring at the man’s red hair in confusion.

“John Watson! G’day, mate!” They both grin at the greeting. All three men sit down to their coffee, John ordering eggs and toast for Sherlock without asking. He ignores Sherlock’s scowl, focussing instead on Bluey.

“How’ve you been? You still in?” John asks.

“Yeah.”

“Stationed with the usuals?”

Bluey snorts. “Bunch of banana benders.”

“Cockroaches?” John adds with a broad grin.

“And fuckin’ crow-eaters,” they both conclude, laughing. Sherlock looks lost and grumpy, playing with the sugar packets.

“Actually it’s a new company.” Bluey said, adding a ton of sugar and no milk to his coffee. “I’m glad we’re not in combat, they’re a bunch of BOBO’s and chocos.”

John snorts in understanding and sympathy as Bluey continues, “One guy is a fucking Monday morning-quarterback. Shits me to tears. But what can I do?”

John made a murmur of agreement. “What do they think of you?”

It’s Bluey’s turn to make a derisive snort. “DILLIGAF,” he says, and John laughs a loud belly laugh.

They stop for a few moments as their eggs arrive, John placing Sherlock’s in front of him with a finality that says EAT louder than words.

“Met anyone?” John asks through a mouthful of eggs.

“All Whiskey Tango lately. You?” Bluey replies.

“Nah. I’m all asses and elbows, mate.”

“What about your brother? Is he still…” John waves his fork around.

“He’s PONTI as far as I’m concerned.” Bluey said flatly.

John made a noise of disappointment. “So it didn’t go well, then.”

“What about you, how’re yours doing?” Bluey gives John a significant look, which Sherlock misses as he scowls at his half-finished eggs. The smug smile prompts Bluey to answer himself. “FIGJAM?”

John grins. “FIG-fuckin-JAM.”

They laugh and laugh and Sherlock has no idea what’s going on.

“Makan?” Blue chokes out, and John nods and laughs harder.

They both look at Sherlock expectantly.

“PSR?”

“Not really. But this time, he’s cactus.” John says to Bluey, and they both turn to Sherlock.

“Concede?” John asks Sherlock.

He grudgingly agrees.

“Alright. I’ll explain it then,” John says, grinning from ear to ear.


	2. Translations/Explanations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *insert usual apologies about using Google for foreign language translation.  
> *all Australian-isms are true blue, mate.

Pashto – a language native to Afghanistan and surrounding countries.

 _E morghodaa_ – You motherfucker

 _Staa khur aoghem_ – Fuck your sister

 _Daer kha ha mo wuku_ – You’ve done a great job

 

Javanese \- a language native to the Indonesian island of Java.

 _Aku nyerah_ \- I give up

 

Foreign/Military Slang

Had a gutful (Australian slang) – had enough.

Shitting me to tears (Australian slang) – Highly exasperating.

Thong (Australian usage) – a casual shoe. Known as a flip-flop in America.

Tall poppy (Australian slang) – one who rises above the rest of the population. Generally meant in a derogatory manner.

Chucking a sickie (Australian slang) – to take a day off work (by telling them you’re sick) to do something more enjoyable.

Boogie board (Australian slang) – a body board, used for body surfing.

B & S (Australian slang) – Blokes’ and Sheilas’/Bachelors’ and Spinsters’ (Ball). Traditionally a way for young people to mix and meet other young people, particularly in the bush or non-city areas.

Bluey (Australian slang) – ironic nickname for redheaded person.

Banana benders (Australian slang) – Queenslanders (northern state known for its banana production).

Cockroaches  (Australian slang) – New South Welshmen (refers to their state rugby team).

Crow-eaters (Australian slang) – South Australians (early settlers were alleged to eat the native black cockatoos when food was short).

Choko (Australian slang) – derogatory term for an Army reservist.

BOBO (Military lingo) – derogatory term for a soldier who is utterly hopeless at hitting a target at a rifle range.

Monday morning quarterback (American football term) – someone who is critical of the management of something after the event.

DILLIGAF (Australian slang) – acronym. Do I Look Like I Give A Fuck.

Whiskey Tango (Military lingo) – White Trash.

All asses and elbows (Australian slang) – very busy.

PONTI (Military lingo) – Person Of No Tactical Importance.

FIGJAM (Australian slang) – acronym. Fuck I’m Good, Just Ask Me.

Makan (Malay Language) – to eat (Bluey uses it to mean, ‘did he swallow [the ruse]?’)

PSR – acronym. Pretty Simple, Really (Bluey is referring to Sherlock, ‘[is he] pretty simple really?’)

He’s cactus (Australian slang) – he is finished/done/no longer competing.


End file.
